Empire (Eagle Elite Book 7) (24 page)

The best in this kind are but shadows; and the worst are no worse, if imagination amend them. –A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Frank

THE BRIDAL MARCH
began just as Xavier entered the church. Val frowned, then moved so she was nearly behind me. I helped matters by shoving her toward Gio.

“What is this?” Xavier grinned. “No invitation?”

He’d been a bastard then. He was still a bastard now.

I’d always had good dealings with the Russians. Hell, Nikolai Blazik, or The Doctor as he was nicknamed, was like blood to me, and I didn’t take statements like that lightly.

With rings on every finger on his right hand and a cell phone in his left, he looked like he’d Googled how to dress like a hit man and taken it to heart.

From his head to toe black ensemble to the black trench coat. I shook my head. “Must have gotten lost in the mail. You know how things are.”

“Yes.” His teeth may as well have gnashed in my direction. “These things—” he eyed Val behind me “—are quite delicate.”

Gio let out a low growl, while Papi made a move to my left, reaching inside his jacket. They’d been out of the fold for so long I expected them to forget their manners when it came to scum.

They instantly took up their positions, just as they had back when we ruled over the streets so long ago.

Gio behind, Papi flanking the right, and Sal to my left.

Years ago, between us and Luca, even talking to an Alfero without an invitation, without permission, would get you killed.

And now, we had the one man I’d left in charge, the man I’d trusted while I’d gone into hiding, deciding it was his turn for a handout.

What had he done? Other than run my family into the ground?

Had Luca not been keeping track of my family’s dealings, had he not kept Xavier quiet with hush money — I would be dead.

By Xavier’s hand.

And now that I’d taken control of my family, both in Chicago and New York, I had taken the very last ounce of strength he’d had and made it my own.

“I thought I was blood.” Xavier’s eyes narrowed.

“Things changed.” I crossed my arms. “And I did promise a meeting with the Cappo did I not?”

“About that.” Xavier held out his cell phone.

I hesitated then grabbed the phone, the screen was filled with a picture of a cut-off hand, and a finger flipping him off, in a nice donut box.

Barely able to keep my laughter in, I frowned and handed the phone back to him. “So it seems you’ve been given your answer.”

“That, was my right hand man.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

“Clearly, not anymore,” Sal said with a chuckle.

Xavier’s eyes flashed with hatred. “This is not over.”

“Has it just begun then?” Papi answered before I could. “Is that what you were about to say?”

“And where is your army?” I asked in a cool voice. “Your loyal men, the ones willing to die for you — and for what, so you can gain more power, more control, more money? The Nicolasi family paid you off and gave you a street corner. Be happy, go home, make love to your wife, kiss your two children on the head and know this day, if you choose to threaten me or what is mine one more time, I will take that wife. I will take those children. I will take this life from you, and I will do it slowly.” I took another step. “Painfully.”

Xavier’s brown eyes moved into tiny little slits as his jaw clicked shut.

“I’m assuming by your silence, that you understand.” I straightened my tie. “Now leave.”

He didn’t move.

With a sigh, I snapped my fingers, two of my men surged forward and grabbed him by the arms carrying him out of the church.

“Guard the doors,” I ordered the minute they shut.

I motioned to one of my trusted associates, he stepped forward. “Hank, follow him.”

“Yes, sir.”

With an exhale I whispered, “Thank you.”

Sal slapped me on the back along with Gio. Papi nodded his head and declared, “We are Family.”

“We are.” Emotion clogged in that old throat of mine as my heart sank with a wild realization that Xavier would keep coming back, wanting what he considered his due, and he’d either use me or someone I loved to get it. I would need to kill him.

And I would need to kill his entire line.

Something about that truth cracked my heart.

After all, I was a grandfather.

An uncle.

But also a businessman.

Yes. I straightened my shoulders. And a businessman, who loved fiercely, would do just about anything to keep those he loved safe.

Anything.

“Shall we?” I offered my arm to a silent Val.

With a nod, she looped her hand and then whispered, “Thank you for protecting me.”

Anything. I would do anything. For her.

Oh hell to choose love through another’s eyes!—A Midsummer Night’s Dream

Valentina

IT WAS REAL
. The mafia was real. And that man had hatred rolling off of him in waves, it was nearly impossible not to feel the chill in the air as he was carried away.

I must have surprised Frank by thanking him, because for a few seconds his façade cracked, and all I saw was a man who had already seen his prime and wanted nothing more than to put the past behind him.

It was like he was trying to banish the ghost only to be haunted over and over again.

“Does it ever stop?” I asked before taking my first step down the aisle.

“Yes.” Frank kissed me on the top of the head. “It ends when, for just a few brief moments of respite, you are in the arms of someone who, despite all the bad, chooses to see only good. That is when it ends.”

“Only to start over again?”

“Life.” Frank blocked my view of Sergio as he grasped my face with both hands and kissed my forehead. “Is a never ending cycle of good and bad, it is what you do with those moments that define how the cycle ends.”

He turned and walked in front of me, much like a flower girl would, but really, it was more meaningful. He was showing his protection by walking ahead of me, blocking me from view, allowing me these last few moments to gather myself as Gio took my right arm and Sal took my left.

Papi followed in the back.

Had someone told me that I’d have four uncles as my wedding party, I would have died laughing.

Instead, it had me near tears.

That the old hands holding mine, had always been willing to fight for me, to die for me. For me!

Like I deserved it.

Because to them, I was precious. I was a promise. I was everything.

I think in that moment, I shed the last part of my innocence, knowing fully that I was entering into a sacred bond, not just with Sergio, but with The Family, with the idea that my father had left behind.

One of peace.

Love.

One where blood was only spilled out of necessity.

Dante was at the front of the church with the rest of the men; they waited near Sergio.

Once Frank stepped out of the way, I noticed I was nearly at the end of the aisle.

Sergio’s eyes were closed like he was in pain.

My heart sliced in two.

Because even though I wanted to understand, how could I? He’d lost the only woman he’d ever loved after a ceremony like this — and there I was. The exact opposite, young, innocent, everything he didn’t want, but had to take.

Because of his honor.

I respected him for it.

And I knew I would end up loving him.

I was already halfway there.

Yes, it was time to shed the old me and step into a new reality, a new life, because some stories aren’t filled with instant love or happily ever afters where all it takes is one kiss to seal the affection between two people.

Sometimes it’s work.

Sometimes it’s painful.

Our love would be ugly, deformed, awkward. It would be so many things, but I hoped, that in the end, above all else, it would be good enough.

Not just good.

Not even amazing.

But good enough, so that at least I was in a marriage where we had respect, friendship, it was all I felt right in asking for.

Sergio’s hands shook at his sides.

Frank turned and lifted my veil from my face kissing each cheek and then whispering a blessing in my ear.

Sal did the same, followed by Papi. When it was Gio’s turn, he hesitated.

I grabbed his hands as tears filled his eyes.

I was close to all of them, but Gio… Gio had always been my rock. He’d held my hand when my first real friend in high school moved away.

When she stopped writing me emails, he told me I’d find better friends at college.

When Dante was being stupid, as brothers are prone to be, he talked me through the most traumatic conversation I’d ever had, to date, about guys and hormones.

He thought if he just brought in movies and drew pictures, I’d be okay with the fact that my brother was acting like a jackass.

Halfway through our “talk” we were both so traumatized we swore never to speak of it again.

Gio made sure I ate.

Gio was like an Italian grandmother stuffed into the body of a lean, seventy-year-old man with a secret addiction to Cuban cigars.

His hair was nearly completely gray, his face had aged better than the rest of him, but the worry lines around his mouth deepened as he leaned forward and whispered near my ear, “Just say the word and I’ll get you out.”

Surprised, I pulled him in for a tight hug. “No. This is what my father would have wanted.”

“That does not make this choice easier,” he said in a pained voice as he hugged me tight and then kissed both cheeks. A single tear splashed onto his lips as they trembled. “You are my girl.”

“I am.”

“Be strong.”

“I will.”

“You are my girl,” he repeated. “I die for you, yes?”

“Yes.” My voice quivered.

“He treats you bad, I come with the gun, capiche?”

“Capiche.” I half sobbed half laughed.

With a grunt, he kissed my nose and joined the rest of the men.

Phoenix, Tex, Nixon, and Chase were to the left with the rest of the Alferos while Dante was to the right with Sergio.

When my gaze finally fell to the man I was going to marry, I expected him to still have his eyes closed — after all, he didn’t want this, maybe that was the only way he could go through it.

Instead, his eyes were fixated on me.

White-hot intensity radiated off of him in waves.

When our hands touched, his were warm, not clammy. Strong fingers wrapped around mine.

This is happening.

This is happening.

As the priest made a cross with his incense, he began reciting scripture in Italian. I picked out a few words.

The greetings and prayer flew by, and suddenly the Priest was asking in English if we were of sound mind.

Hah, probably not.

Sergio’s lips twitched as we both stated that we were in fact, sane and were not entering into the holy sanction of marriage lightly.

“Sergio…” The priest’s accent was so thick even his English was hard to decipher. “Do you take…” I was going to hyperventilate, he talked so fast, it was happening so fast. “Till death do you part?”

Blue eyes blinked at me, slowly, methodically, intensely as Sergio answered. “I vow… till death—” his voice cracked “—do we part.”

It was my turn.

My voice was small when I answered the same, I felt odd saying yes, when Sergio actually repeated the last part.

Till death do we part.

Terrifying, to think, it would actually be a very real possibility that one of us would die before the other — chances were most likely him, considering his line of work.

I didn’t like it.

Thinking about death when I should be thinking about life.

I clenched his hands tighter.

“And now a blessing.” The Priest raised his hands. “From a friend.”

Sergio’s composure slipped, just barely, as the priest walked away and someone else replaced him.

A tall, dark, and extremely good-looking man with tattoos on his knuckles, and a very familiar face stood before us.

He cleared his throat. “May this new union provide the two of you with the love and laughter you both deserve, may God keep you safe, may God unite our families for as long as He will allow it. May you honor each other, respect one another, die for one another, live for one another. This is the wish of my family, my friends.” His hands shook, just once, then he cleared his throat and continued. “This is the final wish and will from Andi Abandonato as read by Nikolai Blazik.”

Sergio’s eyes filled with tears.

I wasn’t worthy.

I would never be worthy of a man who was loved that much.

But suddenly, I was okay with it, because her love and devotion for him after only a few months showed me
he
was worthy.

Sergio was worthy.

And so deserving.

Of everything I had to offer him.

And I’d give all.

Because she had died wishing she could.

And it was my privilege to be able to pick up where she left off.

Nikolai nodded at both of us and joined Nixon’s right side. The men shook hands as the priest held his arms above our head and continued the ceremony in Italian.